Benedict Cumberbatch plays Alan Turing in the new biopic The Imitation Game. |
Interested is interesting. It is an old line of advice
parents give their children on how to make friends. The logic is sound for
meeting people, but it is almost incorruptibly true when applied to
storytelling. The problem with the new Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game is that it just does not seem very interested in
its characters or really even in the story it is telling. As a result, it is
only intermittently interesting.
On its surface, there is little to dislike in director
Morten Tyldum’s handsomely mounted World War II picture. It is charming, well
acted, and suitably dramatic. It has the veneer of prestige, but beneath that,
there is precious little substance, which is a shame. Turing’s life is rife
with cinematic possibilities, stuffed with intrigue, sorrow, and inspiration.
All the makings of a great old Hollywood picture are there, something akin to The Life of Emile Zola, if we want to
reach back a ways.
Sadly, few of these possibilities are explored. Late in the
film, an authority figure, remarking on the death of a character, says, “He
faced it with a stiff upper lip” – that classic indicator of British austerity.
One cannot help but feel the filmmakers approached the material in the same
way. Tragedy lurks in every corner of the story, but the film remains posh and
aloof, somehow floating above it.
To the film’s credit, it never gets bogged down in
self-seriousness. First-time feature screenwriter Graham Moore infuses the
script with humor and humanity, and what easily could become a history lesson
is never less than entertaining. It is a crowd-pleaser of the highest order,
but if you have not been to the movies in a while, there is something you
should know: Crowd-pleasers are a dime a dozen. If you wish to be pleased – and
I am not saying there is anything wrong with that – there are any number of
suitable movies from which to choose, including this one. However, if you wish
to be challenged, look elsewhere.
Coincidentally, there is another crowd-pleasing British film
in theaters right now about a brilliant scientist and his difficult life – The Theory of Everything. One could be
forgiven for walking into this feature and realizing, “Darn it! I wanted the
one with Stephen Hawking.” The other, more troubling trait both films share is
a distinct lack of interest in exploring the world-changing feats these men
accomplished.
Throughout The
Imitation Game, we are told the machine Turing is working on will win the
war if he is successful. He is building the first computer with the goal of
cracking the German Enigma machine, an encryption device the Germans used to
pass coded messages. If the machine is cracked, it will give the Allies a clear
advantage, but despite efforts by the Americans and Russians, no one had been
able to solve the puzzle. Enter Turing.
Rather than show the process of his work, though, the film
settles for constantly reminding the audience Turing is a genius. We see him
scribble furiously, but instead of an exploration of his scribbles, we are
treated to numerous exchanges in which the probably autistic Turing does not
understand basic human interactions. These are fun to watch but are no
substitute for understanding the man and his particular brilliance.
Benedict Cumberbatch, of TV’s Sherlock and thus well versed in playing prickly geniuses, is great
as Turing. As an actor, Cumberbatch is capable of explosive bursts of energy
and tremendous feats of physicality, but he uses none of that here. In fact,
the most physical we ever see him is during his morning jog. Turing is a man
whose mind does the heavy lifting, and Cumberbatch portrays this with little
more than a shift in his eyes or a twitch in his mouth. It is a brave,
emotionally complex portrayal of a difficult and complicated historical figure.
Matthew Goode and Keira Knightly perform admirably in the parts
of Turing’s friends and co-conspirators, but neither is given enough to do. While
it is always fun to see Charles Dance on screen – you may recognize him as Tywin
Lannister on Game of Thrones – he has
the thankless role of playing “the authority figure who stands in the hero’s
way.”
Dance is good, but the character is a microcosm of what is
wrong with this movie. The filmmakers seem to believe it is not enough to watch
a smart man do important work. He needs obstacles and conflict, as though the
war alone will not suffice. Turing faced myriad challenges in his life and
overcame a great many of them, but a superior who does not understand his work
is probably the least among them.
Strangely structured, to say the least, Turing narrates his
war record while we are treated to other flashbacks of his life, as well as a
police investigation into Turing’s post-war affairs. The three timelines are juggled
to somewhat muted effect. The end goal seems to be to induce guilt for the
treatment of war hero Turing, who was persecuted for his homosexuality, a crime
in mid-20th century England. The shift to a kind of gay rights narrative is
handled deftly and carries appropriate weight, but it comes so late in the
story that it does not land with the impact it otherwise might, much like the
rest of the proceedings.
I have no doubt of the filmmakers’ good intentions, but the
storytelling often feels perfunctory, coasting on the cultural cache of Turing’s
accomplishments and World War II. These are impressive figures doing a critical
job at one of the most crucial moments in world history. Their story is
inherently interesting – if only the film had been a little more interested.
See it? Yes.
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